My Breath that They Call Life
by jendayi
Summary: The diary of a 15 year old girl. The story of her defeats, struggles, and innermost thoughts. The scarey thing is.. this could be someone else's reality. Rated PG for some language and sexual content later on in the story.
1. 2 27 04

2.27.04  
  
No one can ever read you. I, myself, will not even let you be seen. If  
anyone comes upon these sacred pages, may I be cursed- my life would  
come down on top of me, crumbling at the edges until finally the whole  
world caves in on me. What greater horror is greater than that?  
You, my dear friend, may call me Alice. Or Estella- but I thought that  
was a too much elaborate name for my poor, simple breath that they  
call life. I wouldn't dare write my real name in fear that after I die  
someone might scan their beady eyes over these painfully written  
words. Maybe I shall have you burned before I pass away. Do not be  
offended, I only wish that someone not see your holy pages. Anyways, I  
shall just remain as Alice.  
Ever since I was a young child, I have yearned to have someone to tell  
all my secrets to- to share my thoughts and dreams. I have always been  
a misfit. Never have I had any friends. Even my imaginary ones turned  
to be fraud- they just somehow couldn't express themselves to me, nor  
I to them. And now my only friend I ever had has run away. No one  
knows where, and the police around her house across the street remind  
me day after day of the only friend I ever had high-tailing it. I'm so  
tired of Police interviews... I don't know anything about it! Can't they  
understand? The last thing she said to me was, "No one's there. They  
don't understand me. But, as it is said, where there's true gold-  
there you can find the truth!" She's always deep like that, or at  
least... she was. She's the one who brought out the poet hidden deep  
within my struggling soul. Now that she's gone, this little town of  
Boston just isn't the same... It's been a full three weeks since she  
left- I've been counting.  
Well, she's just one of the reasons why I got you. There are many  
more, but most of them are lost in the depths of my soul. There's her,  
loneliness, June 15th, Seth.. Oh yeah, I haven't told you about Seth  
yet. Seth, supposedly, is my father. My stepfather actually, but I  
wouldn't even think of calling him dad. He's anything but that to me.  
I mean, how can I get close to someone who ran off both my parents?  
Okay, so here's how this messed up story goes: My mom and dad were  
both in love and they had me. Then they got married- well, if you can  
call it that. It was more of a dinky, covered "ceremony" where mom  
wore a tan sundress. Well, we lived happily in a run-down apartment  
until mom got herself a job in a shop downtown. She met this wealthy,  
cute guy there and secretly started dating him. When dad found out, he  
was so upset. The police found in dead in an alley, shot in the head.  
In his hand he held the gun. Well, mom married that guy and everything  
was fine. We moved into a decent house and I could tell my mom was so  
happy. But one day, Seth lost his job. He drank so much alcohol that  
night that it damaged him forever. Well, he started beating and  
abusing my mom. She got scared and left. She just ran out and left me  
with this lunatic! So he turned to me and beat me instead. He still  
does it unto today.  
Oh crap- I heard the door open! He must be home. I've got to hide you,  
dear diary, so he won't read this. I've gotta go face another beating  
for tonight- he looks especially drunk... Oh mother of all crap! 


	2. 2 28 04

2.28.04  
  
Well, there's no school today, but I do have play practice. Thank God  
that the school is really close to my house. Seth is on a major  
hangover so he wouldn't be able to drive me.  
Yes, I am in the spring play. We're doing "Cinderella". I would love  
to tell you that I got the part as Cinderella or one of the  
stepsisters, but no. I did not. You'd never guess what part I got! A  
chicken. Yes, a chicken. Well you're probably thinking, "There are no  
small parts- only small actors." Right? Wrong. I think they could do  
without one chicken. But I'm only doing it so I can get away from  
Seth. I don't know why Mrs. Kammer, my drama teacher, wants me to be  
at every practice. I'm only in one scene: I just run across in the  
background being chased by a lady. Wow. I feel so special. Since I  
just sit there watching the whole time, I've memorized everyone's  
lines and movements. I really do need a life- one that's better than  
this dragging dump I'm living.  
Anyways, I'd better start on my way to school for practice before Seth  
wakes up from his little "nap". I'll write later.  
  
* * *  
  
Well, play practice sure was eventful. We actually worked out the  
scene I'm in today! Wow. So now I've earned myself a new nickname: the  
black-eyed chicken. Last night, Seth gave me a black eye and I had to  
come like that. So, I have rightfully earned myself that nickname.  
Great. Right now I'm feeling especially warm and toasty inside...  
Great. 


	3. 2 29 04

2.29.04  
  
Ah, the silence of Sunday morning. I love it. Seth is always  
asleep on the couch downstairs, everyone is away at church, and I am  
left to myself for once. As I said before- I love it.  
I'm sitting here with my window open listening to the golden  
silence. Even the police looking for my friend have taken the day off.  
All I can hear is the chirping of birds and occasional bark of a dog.  
You know what? I'm suddenly inspired to write a little poem about this  
silly little bird that landed on a branch outside my window.  
  
"Fly Away"  
  
"The swaying trees once lifeless grey  
now growing sprouts of new-  
seeming sprinkled buds of pink  
scattered amongst our view.  
  
This little being full of life  
rests its fragile wings-  
landing lightly upon a branch  
its resounding voice sings.  
  
Who would know that from this being  
such a sound could come?  
Its golden chest and crimson body  
blending beautifully with its hum.  
  
He spread his small yet might wings  
and gracefully takes flight-  
capturing a glance of everyone's eye  
until he is out of sight."  
  
Yes. If only I could be like that bird and fly away. I would be  
free from this wretched place! Finally, I would be truly joyful. Alas,  
that can never be. I shall probably become one of those teenaged, high-  
school drop-outs trying to bum money off people in the streets. Yes,  
this is the story of my life. 


	4. 3 1 04

3.1.04  
  
The first day of March- always a time of new beginnings. Guess  
what fun and exciting thing I'm doing today! I'm going to a school  
where everyone hates me. How fun. Well, at least my black-eye is  
almost gone. It's kind of got a yellowish-brown, greenish tint. Ah,  
just as well. I shall write later.  
* * *  
  
Today was the best day of school ever! Two beautiful things have  
happened to me! I'm so jovial I think I shall cry.  
First off, I had an actual conversation with a guy! He bumped  
into me in the hallway and made my books fall out of my arms. He  
helped me pick them up then walked with me to my next class. A  
conversation with Brandon- that's his name- I can't believe it!  
Also, I made a new friend today. She's new and came to sit by me  
at lunch. She said she'd just moved in and she was a little shy.  
Anyways, it turned out she was in most of my classes so we talked  
throughout the day. Anyways, she invited me to come over Tuesday and  
have dinner with her family. We also exchanged phone numbers so I'll  
probably call her later on tonight. I can't wait! 


End file.
